


On the Rocks and With a Twist

by wonderlandstreasurechest



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers Dino Thunder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Gen, Injury Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-03-05 07:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandstreasurechest/pseuds/wonderlandstreasurechest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reefside, California: a trendy suburb of Los Angeles and home of The CyberSpace, an even trendier bar and restaurant. Despite its reputation as a glamorous gig stop for music’s rising stars, the staff of The Cyberspace lead far from glamorous lives. </p><p>After a life-changing injury, college soccer star, Conner McKnight is taking serious inventory of his aspirations, and working as a bartender at The CyberSpace seems like a good way to spend his semester off. He has no idea what he’s walking into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Inconclusive

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a while since I’ve written anything multi-chaptered (longer still since I finished one… whoops!), but I have a good feeling about the direction of this story. I’ve never written anything AU before, either, so I guess this is going to be interesting, but I’ve been messing around with this idea for a while now, so here’s hoping!

_“You might never play competitively again, and I think you should prepare for that.”_

Those words were in Conner’s nightmares for weeks after his last game. The nightmares were frequent and loud enough to cause some concern from his roommate, but he’d never really given much thought to what concerned Alexei.

“You should speak to Coach,” Alexei offered over breakfast one morning before his run. Conner didn’t go on runs anymore. Instead he went to physical therapy, where he went up and down a set of three steps for an hour at a time and nothing drove him crazier.

“What’s he going to do?” Conner asked, mouthful of toast. “He’ll just tell me to stop skipping therapy.”

“You skip your appointments?”

“No.”

“Do not lie, please,” Alexei sighed, in his strained English. “I spoke to your brother—”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

Eric had been calling more since the accident, as though, now that Conner was injured he was finally capable of staying in touch. The calls had gotten annoying fast, and he wasn’t quite sure how it came to be that his Russian roommate had a better relationship with his twin than he did, but it was endlessly aggravating to have Alexei trying to moderate their conversations.

“He calls, I answer. What am I supposed to do?” Alexei asked, taking his dishes to the sink. “He tells me you are considering… Are you really not playing next season?”

“I haven’t decided.”

The therapist had called his progress _inconclusive._ As in, _maybe_ he would be able to play again, _maybe not._ It had been months. He needed answers.

“Perhaps, if you spoke with Coach…”

“Don’t you have a mile to run or something?” Conner snapped, pouring himself another cup of coffee. Extra sugar, because he could. Because he didn’t have to watch his diet. Because he might not need to.

Alexei said nothing as he pulled his water bottle from their tiny fridge and slammed the door behind him.

\---

“I didn’t expect to see you here, McKnight,” Coach Park said, gesturing to the empty seat opposite his in the office he shared with the assistant coach. “Please, sit down. Romanov told me you might come in, but I really didn’t think you would.”

“Romanov, hm?” Alexei was going to get it when he got back. He took the seat, looking anywhere but directly at his coach. “Doesn’t matter. I just wanted to tell you that I’m thinking about quitting. I mean, I just thought you should know that.”

“Have you been going to therapy?”

“Yes.”

“Consistently?”

“Look, the point is, they don’t know if I’m ever going to get better,” Conner explained, looking down at his right leg. It wasn’t swollen anymore, and the cast was long gone, but the scar from the surgery was still smooth and purple. “And no one is going to draft me for the pros with a problem injury, so what’s the point?”

“The point is, you’re not a quitter.”

“I might be.”

“You’re not.”

“But I might be,” he repeated. “I might take the whole semester off, in fact, and postpone graduation. I still have a year of eligibility after this season, so I… might.”

“You need something to take your mind off all this,” Coach Park said decisively. “You gotta clear your mind of the quitting stuff, kid. There’s too much potential in you."

“All I have is potential,” Conner mumbled. “All potential, no kinetic.”

“You got plans for the summer?”

He was supposed to teach at a soccer camp for kids. His therapist insisted that he back out a month ago. There was only a week left in the semester and he hadn’t lined anything less activity intensive up.

He shook his head.

“Perfect,” Coach Park smiled, picking up the phone on his desk and dialing a phone number from memory. A silence fell as the phone rang on speakerphone.

“CyberSpace, this is Katherine, are you looking to place a reservation?” A feminine voice, tinted with an English—Australian, maybe?—accent.

Conner wondered what the hell a cyber-something had to do with his injury or his quitting, but once Coach had an idea, no matter how out of nowhere it seemed, Conner knew better than to question it.

“Kat? It’s Adam.”

“Oh, hello, Adam! Tommy’s not in at the moment, but I—”

“No, that’s okay. Are you still short staffed for the summer?”

He was being set up for a job? That wasn’t so bad, he supposed. At least it wasn’t some alternative therapy.

“Unfortunately. Why? Do you have a student?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Great! I’ll run it past Tommy and Hayles, but tell him he starts next Thursday.”

"You're the best, Kat."

"Don't I know it?"

"Thanks again, bye, now." Coach hung up. “Next Thursday.”

“What exactly is it I’ll be doing?”

“Bartending at The CyberSpace. It’s a little place in Reefside, couple of my friends own it, and they’re great people. They’ll help you sort it all out.”

“And if I don’t want it sorted out?”

“Then you’ve got a good stable job for the summer, at least.”

He’d had worse offers, he supposed, and it wasn’t like he was itching to go back home, where Eric would be trying to shove optimism and positivity down his throat and his mother would… He didn’t really care what his mother would do.

If Coach said it would help…

“What’s the address?”


	2. Interesting At Least

Conner wasn't really sure what he was expecting from The CyberSpace, but this wasn't it.

          The CyberSpace was kind of ratty on the outside. Clearly this building had at one point been a warehouse of some sorts, with exposed cement blocks for all the exterior walls. The wood-framed doors with their glass paneling, however, seemed to be really high end. There was a good chance the inside would be closer to the style of the doors than the building itself. What Conner really couldn't look away from, though, was a black and gold awning over the doors with a bold pink logo which eliminated any doubt that he may have still had that this was The CyberSpace.

          He double checked the address anyway. To be safe.

          When he walked inside, he found himself taken slightly aback. Even with the fancy doors and awning, Conner hadn't even been close to prepared for the stunning elegance that was The CyberSpace. A plush red couch sat in the waiting area between the hostess stand and the doors, and beyond that little podium was a small sea of tables covered in gold tablecloths and dressed with crisp black napkins. All the chairs faced a stage at the front. Along the far right wall, there was an all-wood bar, with tall barstools that matched the waiting couch.

          "Please tell me you're Conner," A head popped up from under the bar. It was a woman, her dark red hair piled on top of her head and held in place by a pair of chopsticks, and a clipboard in hand. Clearly, this was not Kat, who Coach Park had been talking on the phone to. Her accent was definitely American.

          "That's me," He said, walking up to the bar. "My coach, Adam Park, told me that you needed a—"

          "We need an everything," The woman said, turning to the clipboard with a frown. "Let's put you at the bar, though. You're licensed, right?"

          "Uh, licensed?" Conner repeated back to her. No one had said anything about a license.

          "I'll take that as a no. You have to have a license to be a bartender. There's a test, it's not a huge deal. We'll see what we can do about getting you licensed, because that's where we really need you, but in the meantime..." She drummed her fingernails against the clipboard, thinking. "Let's have you bus. Both the bar and the tables. Sound okay?"

          "Works for me," He shrugged. The woman smiled at him, before scribbling on her board. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

          "Oh my god, how incredibly rude of me. My name is—"

          "Uh, Hayley?" A brunette girl, who Conner thought looked to be a year or two younger than himself, maybe twenty, stood in the doorway that lead back to a kitchen. "Sorry, but Trent just called and he and that new guy are on their way over here. They wanted to talk to one of the owners and I think you're the only one here right now..."

          "Of course I am," Hayley sighed. Turning back to Conner, she pulled a couple of sheets off her clipboard and handed them to him. "I'll need you to fill these out, okay? I gotta go take care of something, but Krista can show you the ropes of bussing. She's an old pro."

          The brunette, who Conner assumed was Krista, didn't seem to be an old pro. She was hardly an old anything.

          Hayley flew back to the kitchen leaving the two of them alone.

          "Is she always like that?" Conner asked, pulling a pen from his jacket and setting to work on the paperwork. It was pretty basic employment stuff.

          "Like what?" Krista rested her arms on the bar top. "Stressed?"

          "It didn't seem like she'd slept in a couple days," Conner smiled to himself. Even if Hayley was a little eccentric, at least she was interesting. She certainly seemed nice, which was a bonus.

          "Hayley basically doesn't sleep," Krista sighed. "I mean when would she? We open at 6 and stay open until 2 in the morning but closing takes a bit, and Hayley's usually in getting things ready at like 10 a.m., everyday, if not earlier. I worry about her, but what can you do. She's a one-third owner, so it's kind of her job not to sleep."

          "And the other two?"

          "Tommy and Kat," She laughed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "But they're no help. He's what would generously be called a silent partner, and she's a little preoccupied with the food, which leaves Hayley to manage the bar, the entertainment and the dinner service. You know, before they bought this place, Kat was a gourmet chef at a four star restaurant in L.A., so at least she's good at what she does."

          "And now she's here?" Conner had a hard time believing that this place even registered on the stars scale, no matter how swanky the inside was. It was just a little too tucked away.

          "The CyberSpace was Hayley and Tommy's idea, mostly, but Kat and Tommy are married, so she's just kind of along for the ride, you know. But don't tell anyone I said so, okay?"

          "Mum's the word," He threw a smile at her. Objectively speaking, Conner was comfortable categorizing Krista as cute, and it was clear that she was observant, at least. Besides, there was nothing wrong with flirting his way through this summer, right? "What about you?"

          "Me?" She said, backing off the bar, coyly. "I'm the eyes and ears of this place. I've been here longer than anyone barring the owners—"

          "Don't let her fool you," A voice came from behind Conner. He turned to find a man with short dark hair and a goatee, walking in from the front door with a knowing smile. "Krista's not here by choice."

          "Dad," Krista sounded surprised. "I didn't know you were coming in today..."

          “It’s a big day, right?" The man said, joining them at the bar. He turned to Conner with an open hand. Conner shook it. "I'm Tommy, and you must be Conner. The soccer player Adam sent over, right?"

          "Uh, yeah."

          "Good, good," Tommy turned back to Krista. "Hey, sweetheart, any chance that the Mercer kid's here, already?"

          "I think he and what's-his-name were going to meet Hayley in the back."

          "Great," Tommy said, sliding through the swing door and into the kitchen. "Nice to meet you Conner!"

          "Dad, huh?" Conner smirked. "So that makes Kat your mom?"

          Krista rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. "When I'm at work, they're just my bosses. No different than Hayley."

          The interaction he'd just witnessed told a different story, but for now, Conner let it slide. This gig was probably going to be interesting after all. If nothing else it beat physical therapy.

          "So you wanna learn to bus or what?"

          “Teach me your ways, oh, eyes and ears of The CyberSpace.”


End file.
